The Baulk Bastard
by GriffinPit
Summary: A rumoured centuries old law within the Baulk family is that a man shall father no bastards. Reviews welcome good or bad.
1. Chapter 1

Southmount sits steadfast and proud, north of Mistwood, in the centre of Cape Wrath surrounded by rolling hills bordered by dense forests. This morning it was shrouded beneath an iron sky.

House Baulk resides over its grand namesake hall and surrounding lands. Southmount is sometimes called the Stable of the Stormlands due to the vast success of the Baulks rearing fearless and loyal horses that have caught the eye of Knights, Noblemen and Kings alike for decades. Being born in the Stormlands, foals quickly learn that the roar of thunder cannot hurt them making them less likely to bolt during a storm. During a battle when everyone else's horse is running from the thunder, Baulk horses do not flinch. Neither do the Baulks.

Lord Tobin Baulk, the eldest brother of three, is head of the house after succeeding his father, Lord Lerris Baulk. It is rumoured that it is a tradition of the Baulk's that each Lord fathers at least three children and each have an important, set purpose. All children are given lessons in combat as well as being taught by the Maester to have sharp mind, so they do not always have to rely on sharpness of steel. First born sons, of course, are the heirs and future Lords. Second born sons are trained to be honourably knighted or to be leaders within the Baulk army. Third born sons are to take on the role of Stablemaster, learning how to breed and manage horses from a young age. Outsiders believe the role of Stablemaster is a low-borns duty, however in Southmount, Stablemaster is an honoured and respected title. Daughters are expected to take part in womanly activities such as needle work and dress making, but may train to be able to effective defend ones self.

Following tradition, Gryffard, first born of Lord Tobin and Lady Emlyn is heir and Lord to be. Horden, is in training to become Commander of the modest, but steadfast Baulk army. The youngest son, Renard, is destined to carry on the success of the Stable of Stormland. Even at the age of just nine, he can ride a horse as well as any man, but to the dismay of his father, takes little notice in the running of the stables. He hopes that with time Renard with take on the responsibility and carry forward the Baulk's success. All of Tobin's son share his rich, dark brown hair with the eldest, nineteen year old Gryffard already possessing the soft brown curls of Tobin's beard, as well as his towering build and large set shoulders, with Horden just beginning to inherit it at sixteen. His only daughter, Nathaleya, resembles her mother with beautiful, gentle features yet possessing her assertive amber eyes. Tobin's brothers, Bennar and Darreth, also reside at Southmount hall. Darreth married a distant relative of the Swann's, Evelyne, and was, as he boasts, blessed with Rylon, Nathan and Hughgar. Bennar, the current Baulk Stablemaster, is often referred to as Wall-Eye Baulk due to his white eye he received after an injury trying to tame a young stallion when he was young and too arrogant to accept he didn't have the skill to break a boisterous grey. A lesson he holds and doesn't hold back on preaching to this day.

The Baulk's pride themselves on being staunch followers of tradition. Despite Tobin having three true born sons and one daughter, he has a fifth. A bastard born to a secret former lover. To avoid bringing shame upon the Baulk house, he disallowed his bastard daughter from taking the Stormland's bastard name, Storm, so no one would discover of his impure actions through endless questions. It is known as a century's old, unwritten law within the Baulks; Baulks do not deliver bastards. To further protect himself and his family, he brought her back to Southmount and had Bennar foster her into a useful stable hand. Tobin assured that Adryann's mother would never reveal the identify him as the true father of the child, as well as leading others to believe the babe was in fact a boy and was to be raised elsewhere, to then join the Watch at the Wall.

As the grey day persisted in the Stormlands. An iron shield blocked the suns weak morning rays from reaching the cold, damp ground. Yesterday's storm had left the earth sodden and the odd gnarled tree, which had yielded to the wind, lay on the ground.

"Horden, your horse is lame, you can't ride the damn nag in the tourney, it won't even be able to make the journey," Bennar explained, growing tired of Horden's pleas.

"But-," Horden began to whine in frustration. "I've trained with him, I can't ride someone else's,"

"Listen, boy. If you enter that horse, she'll only injure herself more. Stop acting like a child," Bennar retorted and uncrossed his arms as he walked away, towards the stables.

"I wouldn't have to if that bitch hadn't ruined my horse!" He spat through his teeth, scowling over at the stable hand tending to Brom, Horden's bulky, muscular bay stallion. When trudging back to the stables from the field, the stallion had slipped on the loose mud and strained his hind quarters. Horden matched his horse in that he was tall and had a muscular build. He'd been trained in combat since when he could first walk, like all of the Baulk sons. He wanted to be a knight, knowing he wasn't likely to become Lord of Southmount, and the Tourney of the Hand was his chance to being noticed or being asked to squire for a knight in King's Landing. He had not yet proven himself to his father, so he has refused to knight him thus far. Lord Tobin also saw that Horden had a habit of falling victim to the temper that seeped through when plans didn't go his way; he told himself that he'd grow out of this. He was yet to be proven right. Horden bitterly suspects he truly wants him to stick to tradition and become the commander of the Baulk army and not go to serve some pompous, self-righteous knight in King's Landing. The thought of him being stuck here and forced to work under the commander of his to-be-Lord and more-favoured elder brother made him seethe.

"Ignore him Adryann," Bennar said to the brunette girl, who was stroking Brom's white blaze, as he leant over the stable gate. "He lets he anger get the better of him,"

"He has a better?" She quipped over the grey's back. Bennar only shook his head and smirked in response. "Anyway, I can't ignore him. Wouldn't that just anger him more? He'd make it known to Lord Tobin,"

"He won't and if he does, remember you've proved yourself a reliable stable hand and my brother knows this. It's more than that boy has proven so far. He'll use another horse for the tourney and will be gone for a month or two; he wouldn't miss a chance to parade around, putting on the airs and graces for the Lords and Ladies of King's Landing on his life. I pray to the Seven that'll he stay safe though, he's my nephew after all, and he's bound to say something foolish or let his anger show." He looked up to the pale sky briefly before both of their attentions were brought to the opening gates.

Adryann came away from Brom and joined Bennar in leaning over the gate, but with Bennar with his back to her, watching the visitors saunter in on horseback. A man dressed in russet leather armour rode a proud-looking chestnut mare towards the stables, followed by another, a boy more than a man. She assumed he must be the man's squire. As they approached, Adryann noticed the swan embossed on the older man's broad chest. Swanns.

"Ser Balon!" Tobin greeted as he coursed down the stairs from the hall. Ser Balon Swann dismounted his steed with a puffed up chest and ran his fingers through his damp blonde hair. He marched towards Lord Tobin with his chin held aloft bearing a wide smile and swinging his thick muscular arms surely, handing the reins to his already-grounded squire. The Knight was greeted by with a welcoming hug and, what Adryann guessed as, an inaudible jest. Bennar looked towards Adryann expectantly, before nudging her sharply. He received a confused and slightly aggravated grunt as the only response before it dawned on her it was her job to tend to the horses. She hastily clambered over the gate and hurried towards them whilst attempting to look competent and confident after almost slipping on the mud and stumbling to the ground ungracefully. The squire handed the reins over swiftly before he turned on his heels briskly to follow Ser Balon and Lord Tobin into Southmount Hall without a single word. The horses were fitted with exquisite rich, brown bridles and saddles to match. Ser Balon's horse was identifiable by a silver swan's head set on the chest piece of his breastplate. The mare appeared athletic and agile, but sturdy and sure at the same time. A trademark of a Baulk horse. Whereas the squire's mount was saddled more modestly with a plain bridle and matching saddle, apart from a swan stamped into the brow band of the bridle. This mare was also chestnut, but had a prominent white strip down her face from forehead to the tip of her muzzle. Adryann's detailed study of the nags was interrupted by Bennar's bellow.

"Ryann, hurry up and tie those damn horses up and give them water. Rook, the black stallion. Bring him here and clean him up. Damn horse is bound to be masquerading as a bay in this weather," Bennar watched Ryann expertly tie up the horse next to the water trough before she turned heel towards the fields. Nodding contently, he switched his gaze towards his brother leading Ser Balon into Southmount Hall followed by his squire, the heavy, oak doors closing slowly behind them. "Pay the man a horse to take your son to the tourney? Tobin, he knows the boy. You're going to need a silver tongue and a miracle." He chuckled, shaking his head.


	2. Chapter 2

Southmount Hall was decorated from ceiling to floor with ornate carving of horses. Some carrying brave Knights into battle, others majestically galloping over a rugged plain. The pride of hall was Tobin's seat at the head of the table. Carved from rich, dark rosewood with a solid, tall back. Each leg had intricate engravings of horses and varies elements of the surrounding land.

A proud Tobin escorted an impressed Ser Balon into the hall. His wife, daughter and sons stood smartly and welcoming. Lady Emlyn stood straight and graceful with a polite smile. Gryffard stoic and manly next to her. Nathaleya mirrored her mother, although slightly uncomfortable in her muted blue dress. Horden purposely bulked himself up and puffed with chest, showing a deliberate smirk. Renard, being the youngest, stood quietly next to Horden avoiding eye contacting with the towering Swann Knight.

"Ser Balon, I'm pleased to see you are well. I trust your family is well?" she asked warmly, stepping down from the raised floor were the table rests to join the side of her husband.

"Lady Emlyn, the pleasure is all mine. And thank you, they are well. The gesture is returned," he returned the wish with the same genuine warmth.

"Ser Balon, I'm sure your remember my sons. Gryffard, Horden and Renard. Not to forget my daughter, Nathaleya- " He was halted by the sudden disappearance of his only daughter, who managed to sneak away without anyone noticing. Her brothers looked around at each other confused. Renard giggled a little before a disappointed yet scornful look from his mother quickly silenced him. Her father frowned before exhaling a strained laugh, attempt to dispel his embarrassment. Ser Balon raised a brow, but was nonetheless impressed with the girl's skill. "I'm sure that she didn't mean to offend you, Ser Balon, she can be rather...adventurous at times. I will be having stern words will her soon after I promise you," he assured crossing his arms.

"Lord Tobin, there's no need for strong words. I'm not offended. Her actions hasn't planted the seeds of war between our families just yet," he jested, "But, I apologise for my bluntness, you wished to discuss something of the tourney with me?" Ser Balon questioned.

"Yes. I do. If you'd follow me." Lord Tobin, gestured for the knight to follow behind him. They entered a small, however equally decorated, room and promptly concealed themselves behind the door. Horden took a hasty step towards the door. A firm hand held him in his place. Horden directed a sneer towards his brother, who wasn't even looking his way, and shoved away his arm.

"Don't eavesdrop, it's rude," Gryff commanded with an easy, yet commanding tone whilst keeping his head true. "Let's go find our sister," he said rather accusatory.

Lady Emlyn listened in unbeknownst to her two eldest. She lightly squeezed Renard's shoulder and smiled down at him. "It's time for your lesson. You should go find Maester Orin in your chambers. Go now. Don't keep him waiting," she glance upwards to her now arguing sons and slyly grinned, "and afterwards your brothers will go out for a ride with you," the boys stood bolt upright and saw the excitement on their younger brothers face and the stern look of their mothers behind him.

Ryann was brushing out set in mud of a fidgeting Rook, she found herself frequently asking if it was possible if he was actually black and brown. She suddenly became aware of a presence to the left of her. Too quite to be Bennar. Too light footed to be any Baulk man, even Renard. She glanced around discreetly to see who is was, studying from feet upwards. Fawn-brown, leather boots. Dirty, beige trousers. Well-fitted, dark blue gambeson. Dishevelled, quickly-tied back mouse-brown hair. Nathaleya. Ryann would question her cautious actions however, as a stable hand, she was below this. Luckily, she was questioned first.

"Ryann, would you mind helping me tack up Stag?" she asked as she swiftly continued towards her horse. Stag, a sturdy, genuine chestnut stood docile. He'd been foaled on the day Renly Baratheon had stopped for a while when passing through back. Stag seemed a fitting name. Both girls tacked up the still nag.

"May I asked where you are going?" she dared to ask, trying to judge Nathaleya reaction. Nathaleya look dumbfounded around the stable attempting construct a decent cover up, but quickly relented. There was something about Adryann that told her she could trust her.

"I'm getting away from Ser Balon as quick as I can. I have a feeling he's going good to ask me to attend the tourney with him," she admitted as she fastened the buckles on Stag's saddle, tightening the girth.

"Is that such a bad thing?" Ryann enquired confused. Ser Balon had little fault and was genuine. A skilled knight with table manners and common courtesy.

"No he's not bad. I just have a feeling my father's trying to marry me off to him. I want to see the tourney but not eventually have a ring on my ring as the price," she thought to herself deeply for a minute whilst Ryann finished buckling the throat lash of the bridle. Her face sudden lit up in the light of a plan, "However...if someone else where to ask me. A better suitor. Perhaps a handsome spice trader from Pentos?" she suggested with a cattish grin.

"..and you know a handsome spice trader from Pentos?" Ryann answered with as much sarcasm as she dared to muster in a attempt to be humoured. She held an accomplished grin. It quickly dropped when it dawned on her what she was most likely suggesting.

"How's business in the spice trade?


End file.
